Here We Go Again
by thatswhatyouget5
Summary: Sarah left mid-season 2. The intersect project had been cancelled and she had not been allowed to notify Chuck that she was leaving. 2 years later, the project is back on and Sarah is forced back to Burbank. Includes an angsty Chuck & eventual Charah.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N-****Hello people. This is my first attempt at a Chuck fanfiction so bare with me. Fortunately, I think I have read enough to know what's going on, so here goes.**

**I guess you could say this is kind of AU, but i'm shooting for mid-season 2 for when Sarah left. Yes, Sarah left. And now she's back. Hence the name **

**Please read and review with any comments. Feedback would be nice. Have fun!**

**-Thatswhatyouget5**

**Here We Go Again**

_Sarah, 9:07 pm, Tuesday, Washington D.C:_

This apartment is starting to get on my nerves. Not that I'm not grateful for the space that the CIA has provided me, it's just, I think that this is too much space. What is an agent going to do with a 2 bedroom apartment? It's not like I have a lot of personal belongings. That's a luxury I do not have due to the fact that I'm not in one place for more than a month at a time-mostly.

The few personal belongings I do have don't even fill up half the apartment. My clothes hang on the right side of my small walk-in closet. My luggage bags take up the left side and the rest. I have a laptop which sits on my desk all day, and a phone which sits in my pocket or my right hand all day.

Most of the things in my apartment, which are not a lot, are provided by the CIA. For instance my bed, the bed sheets, all of the furniture, and the food in my fridge. I know this is to make sure that I don't get "attached." This means I do not have any mementos, because mementos mean memories, and memories mean emotions. Agents can't afford to have emotions. It just screws everything up. I learned that the hard way.

I pace around my apartment, bored out of my mind. I haven't had an assignment in a month, and it's not like I have anyone to spend free time with. I guess it's kind of my fault that I haven't been active lately. I keep turning down requests. Mostly because all of the ones I get recommended to are long-term.

"Your long-term assignment log is outstanding," my bosses say.

I know exactly what assignments- or _assignment _they are referring to, but I'm never going on a long-term assignment again. You get emotionally attached to the people there, and then you have to leave- usually without a goodbye. That is more than my heavy heart can take. I also learned that the hard way.

My laptop starts ringing a familiar noise and it startles me out of my thoughts. I realize that this noise is the CIA contacting me. I open the laptop and watch as General Beckman's familiar face pops up on the screen.

"Walker, Secure," I answer as I sit down at my desk.

"Hello Agent Walker, we have a new assignment request for you," she says while she studies me and my room through the webcam. I notice that she looks slightly stressed, like she is about to give me news that I don't want to hear.

"Sure. Details?" I ask.

"Agent Walker, when I say that we have a new mission for you, I really mean that you are demanded to be the main agent on a certain mission. You see, it is either you or no one," she answers cautiously. I am starting to get worried now. What mission could I possibly be _demanded_ at? I know I am recommended to be the main agent for a lot of missions, because I am one of the best in the business, but why _demanded_? And why is it either me or no one?

"So I have no say in whether I want to complete the mission or not?" I ask her nervously.

"Well, let's brief you first before we make any decisions." She says quickly. I nod my head to show her that I approve. She picks up a stack of papers on her desk, examines them, and then turns back to me.

"2 years ago, you were on a long-term assignment. This assignment was very successful. Actually Agent Walker, I believe it is one of the most successful long-term missions the CIA has ever encountered. Aside from the fact that you were proven to be compromised, the-"

"No." I stop her right there. Even from the mere two sentences of briefing she has given me, I already know I am declining the request. There is no way I am going back to California.

"Agent Walker, be rational," she starts in a disapproving tone, "Like I said, let me brief you before we make any decisions."

I stare at her for a moment, and then nod my head again.

"As I was saying, the team at Burbank had outstanding results. But as I hope you remember, the project was terminated due to a malfunction in the intersect."

_Yes, I do remember General Beckman. In fact, I was the first one to find out the intersect was not working anymore, and that we were over. _ I want to tell her this, but I don't.

"Well it turns out, the malfunction in the intersect was actually some sort of computing error, and with time," she continues, "The malfunction corrected itself."

I shake my head in disbelief. "What are you saying?" I ask her in a weak voice.

"What I am saying Agent Walker, is that since everything is working fine with the intersect again, the CIA sees no reason why the project cannot continue again." She stops there, as if to give me time to digest the information.

She doesn't understand. Although the CIA sees no reason I cannot go back there, _I_ see about a million reasons why I _absolutely_ cannot go back there. I continue to stare at her with disbelief. How can they expect me to go back there? I had left without saying goodbye, or even giving Chuck the slightest bit of a hint that I would never see him again.

_Chuck._

I cannot even think about him without getting butterflies in my stomach, or a horrible feeling of regret. He must hate me. In fact, I _know_ he hates me. Because right before I left to board my plane back to DC, he saw me. The feeling of regret I have begins to worsen as I remember the moment.

_Flashback_

_I am here waiting for my plane to board. This is horrible. I feel like I have a permanent grimace on my face. I know this because I have had several people come up to me and ask if I need anything. Of course, I look bad. Partly because it is 4:00 in the morning, but mostly because I am leaving the one place where I feel like I belong. Sometimes I hate the CIA._

_I am an agent. Agents follow orders. I was ordered to leave California and report back to DC without any notice to the people I am involved with. _

_Yesterday was excruciating. I had to pretend everything was fine, when really, I was leaving the next day. I put extra effort into my conversations with Ellie and Awesome that day. They had become the best friends I never had. I even put effort into my "friendship" with Morgan. As much as I hate to admit, I will miss the little bearded guy. The worst part was acting normal around Chuck. I tried to remember everything about him that day. How he smiled at me, how I felt electricity whenever we touched, the way he smelled, the feeling of the animal shapes in his hair, everything. He had no idea that today was probably the last day I would ever see him, or that I was hopelessly compromised. I had never told him, and now I never will._

_I hear the intercom announce that it is time for business class passengers to board, so I stand up along with the others, gather my things, and slowly make my way toward the gate. _

"_Sarah!" I hear my name being yelled. I turn around and see Chuck, being hassled airport security guards, refusing to allow him in here to talk to me. __How did he find out I was here? I only told Casey we were to leave. I suddenly found an explanation when I saw Casey lingering behind him. He can't be here. I was told to have a clean break. I really don't think leaving with someone calling your name is a "clean break."_

"_Sarah!" I hear my name being called once more. And then I hear, "Final announcement for business class travelers," being called in the intercom. _

_I turn around, stare at him, then point to the gate. I have to make a decision quick._

_I see him mouth the word, "stay," while continuing to resist the hassling the airport security guards are forcing him. I could kill the security guards right now. There is so much emotion in his eyes, like he is using his eyes to beg too, which only makes my decision harder. It's either A: be professional and leave while you can, or B: Screw the CIA. Follow your heart and don't think. _

_I don't think I can do either. _

_I look from the gate and back to Chuck several times. I am convinced the air hostess is angry at me because she is pointing to the gate with a scowl on her face. _

_It's then that I make my decision. I am an agent. Agents follow orders._

_I force my legs to take steps into the gate, and then turn back to Chuck. The sight made me tear up. He had realized I wasn't going to stay, and then he just froze. He let himself be tackled by the security guards. He had given up. _

_I really hate the CIA now._

"Agent Walker? Agent Walker!" General Beckman's voice booms from the computer and disrupts me from the flashback.

"Yes. Sorry," I answer back, with my voice kind of shaky.

"Do you accept?" She looks at me with expecting eyes then continues, "Oh I forgot to mention that for Mr. Bartowski, it's either continue this mission or witness protection."

I say, "Okay," subconsciously because I cannot let Chuck go into witness protection.

I guess I am heading back to Burbank. _Here We Go Again. _


	2. The Backup Makeshift Life in Waiting

**A/N - Thanks to anyone who reviewed, alerted, and/or favorited. I love you! now review again please (:**

**With the Backup, Makeshift Life in Waiting**

_Sarah, 2:00 am, Wednesday, Washington D.C:_

I am lying in bed, trying to wrap my head around this all. I am going back to _him._ There hasn't been a day since I left that I haven't thought about Chuck. Usually it is daydreams about what could've been if I would've stayed with him instead of going on that plane. Other times, it is just curiosity, just me wondering how he is doing and how Ellie and Awesome are doing.

I had just gotten the information on the mission and I found out that Chuck did not actually know the project was back on. He probably suspected something since he was getting flashes again, but leave it to the CIA to make me be the one to break the news to him. Casey already knew, and he had contacted me. What surprised me was that he seemed genuinely happy about it. I guess that's just the effect Chuck has on people.

I really hope Chuck hasn't changed. I hope that he can forgive me for leaving, and we can have a healthy handler-asset relationship again. I don't know about our cover, I guess we'll just have to figure it out when we get there.

It is 4:00 AM now and my plane to LAX leaves in two hours. I take a shower and go through my already packed things to decide what to wear. I decide on a pair of jeans, and a top that Chuck said looked good on me. I am using anything I can to calm me down. I get out to my apartment complex's main area and get in my Porsche to drive to the airport. As I put my hands on the steering wheel I realize that I am shaking. Am I really that nervous about seeing him? Yes. I. Am.

As I back out of the parking space, I realize that I am leaving one life behind, to pursue another one. I don't like the sound of that.

It is not long before I am at the airport, and even shorter time before I am up in the air, on the plane to California. I go over the plan in my head. First, I go back to my old apartment, the one where I was before when I was on this mission, to fresh up from the trip and to set up the things in my bag. Then, I go to Chuck's work to try to find him, I talk to him, tell him about the project, and boom. We're back on.

If only it was that easy.

_Charles Bartowski, 3:30 pm, Wednesday, Burbank:_

James Kaynor, 46, member of a Columbian arms dealership gang, kill count: 14. This is what I see when I see Carl over there, the new Research and Development director. To anyone else, Carl looks like a friendly man, with a crude sense of humor. But I know better.

It has been 3 months since my flashes came back and 2 years and 2 months since the intersect project ended. 2 years and 2 months since my life started over. 2 years and 2 months of successfulness, wealth, and depression.

Ever since I became normal again, I had worked hard to get my life back on track, you know, use my degree for something other than the BuyMore. The hard-work became a nice distraction from missing my old life full of adventure and crime fighting. The hard work paid off I guess, because now I am the President of TechTalk Industries, a _very_ successful mobile phone network provider. To everyone here, I am Charles, the cool, laid-back President. I can't even remember the last time someone besides Ellie, Devon, or Morgan called me Chuck. And I don't see any of them as often as I used to. Now that I am out of Ellie's apartment, and not working at the BuyMore, I don't really get the chance to see any of them because I am so busy. People at work call me a workaholic, because in all truth, I am. I don't do anything outside of the office. Who would I see? A girl? Now that I am successful, the fish in the sea seem to have multiplied by thousands. But I don't want any of them. I can't open my heart up anymore. Not after Sarah.

Sarah Walker.

Beautiful, smart, thoughtful, caring, all around amazing, Sarah Walker. After experiencing Sarah, I'm afraid no other girl can measure up. Not that it would matter anyway. Sarah and I are over. I'm not even exactly sure we ever started. I really thought we had something, you know? The day she left, I couldn't find her, and after 30 minutes of begging Casey to tell me where she was, I found out she was leaving. At first I was angry, how could she leave without saying goodbye? As I thought things through, I guessed that it would make it easier for her. But when I put it out all on the line at the airport, and she still turned me down. I stopped the fight. Her job and me were obviously no match. It was _always_ her job first. _Always. _And when I figured that out during the few weeks after she left, I got myself back together. I couldn't mope around forever, so I threw myself into my work. It distracted Sarah from her feelings, right? I figured it could do that for me, too.

All of a sudden, my office phone rings. I pick it up on the second ring and answer.

"Hello?" I greet whoever is on the line.

"Mr. Bartowski, you have a guest," my secretary Lynn says.

"But I don't have any appointments until 5."

"I know, I told her she couldn't go up without an appointment, but she says it's important and that you would let her in," Lynn answers with a slight hint of annoyance in her voice. Everyone knows Lynnie has got a thing for me, so this girl must be what she perceives as a threat.

"Mhm, I see. What did she say her name was again?" I am curious. I hear Lynn ask the mystery woman for her name before she answers in the phone,

"Do you know a Sarah Walker, sir?"

My heart stops beating.

_Sarah Walker, 4:10 pm, Wednesday, Burbank:_

I've got to admit, this building is impressive. I actually didn't even know Chuck wasn't working at the BuyMore anymore, so it was a bit of a shock to me to find out he was the president of TechTalk.

His apparent secretary, Lynn, is one of those annoying brunette girls who feel the need to straighten their hair to death so it sticks flat on their heads. As she talks to Chuck, I see her flirt a bit. I don't know why but this makes me angry. It's not like Chuck is or ever was mine so I have no idea why I am dying to shoot daggers at Lynn. But the flirt in her voice changes as soon as I hear her ask, "Do you know a Sarah Walker, sir?"

She pauses for a moment and lets him take his time, but after awhile it seems he hasn't answered so she clears her throat and repeats, "Her name is Sarah Walker, Mr. Bartowski. Should I send her up?"

I am patiently waiting with anticipation. What would he say? Does he hate me for leaving him? I am unsure of anything right now so I just tap my fingers against the high desk. I see her listening to his response and nodding.

"Okay, sir. Right away," she answers.

She turns to the worried looking me and says, "He says you can go up."

I felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off me. He obviously can't be that mad at me if he agreed to see me. I sigh with relief.

"See, I told you he would," I say to Lynn with a joking laugh. She doesn't seem to think it is a laughing matter though.

She doesn't address my little joke at all and instead says as she points to her right with a mean look on her face, "The elevator is over there around the corner. Mr. Bartowski's office is on the twelfth floor, first room to your left."

"Thanks," I reply before heading to the elevator. As I step in and press the number 12, I wonder what Chuck will look like now. I guess I am finding out the answer in a minute because, the elevator is stopping.

I step out and walk through the sunlit hallways filled with expensive paintings and elegant décor. Sure enough, Lynn was right. The first door on my left has a gold name plaque on it that reads _**President Charles Bartowski**_. This is it, I think. This is the moment I have been dreaming of getting for 2 years and 2 months. I take a deep breath and I knock on the door.

"Come in, it's unlocked," I hear Chuck's voice yell. Even from just his voice, I am getting dizzy and butterflies are fluttering on overdrive in my stomach. I take a moment to get my head cleared and turn the door knob and walk in.

Oh my god.

What I see when I first look up looks foreign to me. This can't be Chuck. It must be some clone, taking the form of a highly respected business man. Gone are Chuck's loveable, animal shaped curls. They are replaced with a sharp, professional looking buzz cut. Also gone is Chuck's white shirt and black tie, and in place of that is an expensive suit that appears to be tailored. He is sitting at a glass desk, behind him a wall made of glass that overlooks the city. He is sitting a little straighter than he used to, with less of a slump and a hint of confidence. Chuck is gone, and replaced with a successful man named Charles.

"Sarah." I hear him breathe as he looks at me.

I look at him and the sadness in his eyes overwhelms me.

"Hi, Chuck."

**A/N - What do you think? How was it? Please let me know. **

**Also, let me know who's point of view I should do for the next chapter **

**Thanks,**

**Thatswhatyouget5**


	3. Should've Known Better

**A/N-** **Hey guys, sorry for the delay. Let me start off by saying thanks for all the wonderful reviews. I am taking all of your ideas into consideration so never fear! This took me FOREVER to write, so here it is. It's kind of emotional, just warning you. Anyway, as always, Read and Review! Review! Review! For some odd reason, reviews keep me going (as they do for probably all writers on here.) So if you want me to keep going, REVIEW. **

**Alright i'm done with my review rant, so yeah. Thanks and Enjoy, blah blah blah(:**

**-Thatswhatyouget5**

**_Disclaimer:_ Forgot to do one of these things. Okay, I don't own Chuck. Cause if I did, Shaw would've died in the episode last night. And Sarah would've left with Chuck. 'Nuff said.**

**Should've Known Better Than Trying To Let You Go**

_Sarah Walker, 4:20 pm, Wednesday, Burbank:_

"_Hi, Chuck."_

What a stupid thing to say. After 2 years and 2 months of looking forward to this day, regretting my actions toward him, and overall just _missing him, _"Hi, Chuck," is apparently the best I can come up with.

His eyes are now locked to mine, like some kind of unbreakable gaze that makes you want to scream. His eyes are no longer bright, happy, and loving. The dark red circles under them complete the look of sadness. He keeps staring at me from his oversized desk and I just can't bring myself to look away.

Suddenly, he clears his throat and looks down at something at his desk, looking like a child just getting caught. Then he looks back up at me.

"H-Hi, Sarah. How uh, are you?" He says awkwardly. He tries to avoid eye contact while he is speaking. I think he has chosen to ignore that fact that we just stared each other down for at least 30 seconds.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes before I answer back, "Um, I'm fine." I reply awkwardly back. When did things get so tense between us? _Hmmm, well maybe when you left without even trying to say goodbye? _Oh yeah, that. I clear my mind again before I ask, "How have you been doing?"

As soon as I hear the words slip out of my mouth I realize that is was a stupid question. Of course he's been doing well. Just look at this place!

I stop him before he gets the chance to speak something and laugh, "Obviously you've been doing well, this a really nice office, Chuck," I say to him before I look away.

He opens his mouth and then closes it once, twice, and a third time before he sighs and murmurs, "Yeah."

I nod my head and look around the room once more, looking for an escape, something that could distract me from the torture of speaking to your ex. But he wasn't even my ex was he?

_Charles Bartowski, 4:25 pm, Wednesday, Burbank:_

She's so _beautiful_.

My god, she's even more beautiful than the last time I saw her. She looks slightly more stressed than usual, and her eyes are faking a shine, but still, she has gotten me into a trance. I am trying to not to stare, but it is so damn hard when she comes in here looking like that. With her golden hair messily around her shoulders, her hint of light makeup, and that outfit composed of jeans and a figure hugging top that happens to be my favorite, Sarah Walker has taken my breath away.

Well, that, and all of my other senses.

"Oh uh, would you like to sit down?" I request with a slightly frazzled sounding voice as I gesture to the black leather chair in front of me.

"Hm? Oh um sure," she answers quickly as she sits down. I think I have interrupted her thoughts.

We both just politely smile at each other for awhile, to keep the awkwardness to a minimum, but also because we have no idea how to act or what to say in front of each other. She plays with her wrist watch nervously before she checks the time. She jumps as soon as she looks at it, as if she was running late for something.

"Um Chuck, actually, would you mind going somewhere else to talk?" She asks as she gives me her best smile. Well, her best _fake_ smile. I know her well enough to tell what's fake and what's real.

It takes me awhile, but I finally get myself together and answer, "What'd you have in mind?" with an equally fake smile. I have gotten particularly good at those since I got into business.

As soon as I say this, she smiles her _real_ smile and breathes, "Just someplace to talk. Maybe the beach?"

I almost immediately say, "Sure Sarah, there's nothing I want to do more!" but I stop myself before I can sound desperate and analyze the situation a bit.

I look up to check the time first, and I see that it is almost 5:00, so the answer is going to be a no.

I take a deep breath, and nervously reply, "I'd love to, but I've got an appointment starting at five."

Her smile falters a bit and she seems lost for words. Has she actually been affected by my rejection? I feel bad now. This stupid job restricts me from everything.

"Sorry," I add.

She puts her fake smile back on and says, "Oh no, it's fine, don't be sorry," like she is sorry for making me sorry before she adds, "it's just this is kind of important."

That last word grabs my attention. _Important. _ What could be so important? Now I am curious, and I know I won't be able to last an appointment, so I clear my throat and say with a smile, "Well sure then. If it's important."

_Damn it Bartowski, you are so easy, _my inner Casey says to me.

Sarah's real smile shines through her fake one now.

"We should get going now then."

"Yeah sure," I answer before I stand up and walk to the door to open it for Sarah, "Ladies first."

She giggles that beautiful giggle of hers and jokes, "You have turned into quite the gentleman, President Charles Bartowski," as she points at the plaque on my door.

I turn away to hide my blush. That title still gets to me sometimes.

"Please, call me Chuck," I joke back with the line I use about twenty times a day.

We reach the elevator and as we reach for the down button at the same time, our fingers touch. This may sound cheesy, but I still feel the sparks.

We step in the elevator, and some crappy elevator music comes on.

"You have really got to change the music in here."

"I know, I know. I'll get right on it," I smile at her.

As we reach the ground floor, I head for the secretary desk and motion for Sarah to follow. I see Lynn notice me and give me a little flirty wave. I wave back, and I think I hear Sarah snorting behind me.

"Lynnie, would you please reschedule all of my appointments to tomorrow? I have some personal matters to tend to," I request with a Bartowski eyebrow dance.

She stares at me for a while with a smile on her face, but when she notices Sarah behind me, her smile immediately turns to a scowl. I laugh at this, because I am so used to people being intimidated by Sarah, it doesn't even phase me anymore.

"Are you sure, sir? Your appointment at 5 is with our CFO," she questions with an annoyed tone.

I nod my head and smile again, "Yes I'm sure. The matters I have to tend to are _kind of important._" I look directly at Sarah, who is now on my right, and smile an even bigger smile. She giggles.

Lynn glares at Sarah and obnoxiously clears her throat. Sarah raises her eyebrows in response and speaks directly at me, "We're going to the beach, right?"

"Yup," I reply politely. I think Sarah is having fun with making Lynn jealous, which I have to admit, is kind of fun.

"Alright then sir. Uh, have a great day."

"Thanks Lynnie, I will. You too!" I reply before I am basically dragged out.

_Sarah Walker, 4:50 pm, Wednesday, Burbank:_

I can't believe it, but I've missed California.

Its beaches like these and weather like this that make this one of my favorite places on earth. Well that, and the fact that Chuck lives here.

We are sitting on the dry sand, watching the waves crash into each other. Every once in awhile, he'll turn around and smile at me, and I'll smile back. Just being here with Chuck makes me wonder about how I ever left him.

"So what was so important?" he asks gently.

"Oh," is all I can say for now, because honestly, I have forgotten. I suddenly remember and take a deep breath. I guess now or never's the time to get down to business.

"Chuck, I'm so glad I'm back."

He smiles a smile that makes my heart flutter, and replies, "I'm glad too."

He grabs my hand and says, "I thought you left for good." I can see his hopes are up high. I just hope he is hoping to be a spy.

Before I can start again, he speaks.

"Wait," he interrupts, and he looks like he has just figured something out, "Why are you even back here?" He stares me down, with his eyes still soft.

I take a deep breath and after about 4 minutes of him staring me down and me looking flustered I state, "Well the CIA-"

He takes a deep breath and interrupts angrily, "I knew it."

"What?"

I am confused as to what he means. His eyes are not soft anymore, they are now glaring.

"I knew you didn't come back to me because you wanted to."

"I didn't say that Chuck, I-"

"Always!" he yells, which startles me, "Always your work before ANYTHING! Well you know what Sarah, I'm not like that."

He pants and his now standing up making a scene. It is a good thing we are the only ones on this beach. His fists are balled up and I am almost scared. I have never seen him this angry before.

"Do you think I enjoy my life? I tried Sarah, I did. I tried putting work first and look where it's gotten me!" He yells at me, but he is looking towards the waves, "I don't even like my job! I'd rather have someone, _anyone,_ to just talk to, to come home to!"

"Chuck, you can always quit your job, you don't have to-"

"No, Sarah. You don't understand. _You_ made me this way. When you picked your job over me, I picked a job over a life. Because I thought, _hey, if Sarah gets by this way, then so can I. _So I distracted myself by working hard so I wouldn't miss you. Hell, I even shaved my head because my hair reminded me of you! And now all I have to show off is a nice car, a nice house, a nice title, and a bald head. Which may sound good, but what good are all those things if you don't have anyone to share them with."

I am awestruck. Nothing could've prepared me for this. I am realizing what a mistake I made in leaving Chuck, and then waltzing back in his life. I am struggling to find words to say to him, so I am quiet, which is okay, because he seems to want to continue.

"You know what's stupid?" he asks, but he doesn't bother to wait for me to reply. "I really thought you would be the one that I would share this with. That one day, maybe you would come back to me, _for me, _and we could be together _for real._"

"Chuck-"I try to intercede, but he interrupts me.

"Now I realize how stupid I was to even imagine that."

No Chuck, it was not supposed to happen this way. You were supposed to be the intersect again, and we were supposed to happily cover date again, and things were supposed to be back to _normal. _ It's funny, 2 years ago is what I think of as normal. He starts heading for his car when I stand up and ask, "What are you saying, Chuck?"

He looks at me for awhile, with eyes so full of emotion I could cry, before he answers, "I'm saying that I'm done, Sarah."

He opens his car door, gets in, and then drives away. He is leaving me. This must be how Chuck felt when I left him, because I feel like throwing myself into work again.

**A/N- **** Dunn Dunnn Duunnn! How will they get through this one? Review and you'll find out quicker!**


	4. This Time, All I Want is You

**A/N - ****Hello. Sorry sorry sorry. I really can't explain my absence like other writers do. Really the only logical excuse I can come up with is Writer's Block, but even that doesn't clear my conscience. I promise I will update A LOT more often since it's summer break and I have more time. Please don't yell at me, and if you feel the need to, do it in a PM (: Anyway, enjoy this chapter! It took me FOREVER to write and i'm still not fully satisfied with it so, yeah. And I promise it will get better. I pinky freaking swear. And I kind of feel like a hypocrite saying this, but if I get some reviews, i'll probably update faster (: maybe by the end of the week?**

**sorry sorry again,**

**-Thatswhatyouget5  
**

**This Time, All I Want Is You**

_Sarah Walker, 7:00 am, Thursday, Burbank_

"What do you mean he's done?"

"I don't know, General. I'm sorry."

"Well do you mind repeating the story one more time?"

_Yes, actually, I do mind. It's hard enough to think about Chuck yelling at me. I'd rather not relive those moments. _

"We went straight to the beach to talk after he got off work. We started talking and as soon as he found out the CIA wanted him back, he began yelling and carrying on about how he's tired of his job. I guess he thought the CIA would make things worse," I say, hoping the general didn't catch my lie.

It's not even a lie; it's partly true. I'm just not giving the full explanation.

The General looked deep in thought and confusion before saying, "Agent Walker, I'm not sure I understand why this job offer would make him react so rashly. Do you know something I don't?"

_You've caught me there, General. I don't know how to explain without giving things away that would make me look unprofessional. _

I take a deep breath before saying, "I've already told you everything that I know. I don't think I can get any clearer."

For a moment, General Beckman grins. It is not a friendly grin, but a sneaky one. One that makes me nervous and waiting in anticipation for what she has to say next.

"Sarah, do you think I am stupid?" she says sarcastically using my name instead of Agent Walker, which does nothing to help my nerves.

"Not at all, General," I quickly reply.

Her grin is still evident as she says, "Then why do you think I have forgotten about your involvement with the asset from the last time you were on this assignment?"

"W-what?"

"Don't think I don't remember that you had feelings for the intersect," she says in a matter-of-fact tone.

I don't respond or do anything to acknowledge that fact. I simply stare at the floor to try and figure out how to respond. After a few moments of deliberation, I respond with a stubborn, "His name is Chuck."

I still don't like the fact that General Beckman thinks of Chuck as a computer rather than a person.

"Okay then Agent Walker. Does your past uh, let's call it _a relationship_, have anything to do with _Chuck_'soutburst?" She questions as she stares the life out of me. Even though she's only looking through a webcam, I feel like she can sense my every move and thought, and it's not a comforting feeling.

_It wasn't even a relationship,_ I want to say to her, but I hold back.

I am still staring down at the floor of my hotel room as I whisper, "Yes, Ma'am."

General Beckman grins again. She straightens out the stack of papers on her desk out of habit before saying calmly, "Okay, now that we have that cleared up, tell me the real story, Agent Walker." She looks down at me expectantly, and even in my position as one of the top spies of the CIA, it is very intimidating.

I sigh and figure that I have nothing to lose now (except everything), because she already seems pretty confident that I have strong feelings for Chuck and begin the real story, "When I left Burbank two years ago, I had some loose ends that I had neglected to solve. One of them was my relationship with Chuck. You know Chuck, General. He has a hard time separating real from cover and he eventually developed real feelings for me, but you know that," I swallow before admitting the hard confession, "The problem was that somewhere along the time I spent there, I uh, fell for him. And I know it's against the rules to have romantic relations with your asset, let alone fall for him, but I don't know what happened. And you have to believe me when I say I tried _not_ to have feelings for him."

I look at her face to see if she has any hint of disappointment, but to my surprise she doesn't look phased at all.

"What else is new, Agent Walker? Go on."

I am shocked, but I continue, "Well I think after I left Chuck had gone into a depression and he had thrown himself into work. And he seemed better than you described him when he discovered I was back, but as soon as I told him that I was back because of the CIA, he uh, reacted badly."

I look up again, and inspected her countenance. Still nothing unusual. She straightens her papers again before reminding me, "I know that. I'm still not clear as to _why_ he reacted so badly."

I clear my throat. _It's now or never_, I think. So I finally give her the reason, "He thought I came back to pursue a _real_ relationship with him. He thought I came back because I missed him, not because of a job."

As soon as I say it out loud, more regret washes over me. I feel more horrible now than I did after I left him two years ago, and even that feeling was pretty horrible. Now General Beckman's look has changed to a look of understanding. I feel relief wash over me as I realize she didn't immediately freak out.

"I see."

_What do you see, Beckman? What are you thinking?, _I think. It is getting so hard just to watch her arrange her thoughts. What would she say? What would she _do_? For the first time in awhile, I am scared for my job as an agent.

"That'll be all then, Agent Walker," she says simply before she disconnects.

I am dumbstruck. Did that really just happen? She didn't act angry or surprised or _anything_ at all. Now not only am I scared, but also confused. I know for a fact that this time around, if Chuck were to try anything like he did last time, I wouldn't deny him. I think this time, I want him more than I want the job, which terrifies me. This is why I am feeling a little sad that she didn't give me an order that might help or sort out the situation. I guess I will just have to wait until she calls me back.

* * *

_Chuck Bartowski, 1:30 pm, Thursday, Burbank_

It took me awhile to get over the initial anger. I don't have rage issues or anything, but getting your heart stomped on once, and then willingly going out of your way to get it stomped on some more doesn't feel too good.

I remember the first time we were at that beach. She asked me to trust her, and I did. Maybe a little too much if you ask me. I trusted everything she said. I believed everything she did, and as good of a con-artist as she is, I didn't think anyone could be as good as faking feelings as she was. 2 years ago, I had something with her; or at least I _thought_ I had something with her. Even though it was supposedly all to keep up with the cover, I couldn't help but feel like every time she grabbed my hand or kissed my cheek, that it was real. Like every time she went on cover dates or ate dinner with my unconventional family she had become a part of, she actually enjoyed it. It kills me to think that it was all just work to her.

Somehow, I have gotten out of bed, taken a shower, and gotten ready for work. I'm now driving in my stupid expensive car to my stupid expensive job in my stupid expensive office. You could say my life is mostly stupid and expensive.

I'm very tired due to the lack of sleep I had last night, so I stop at Starbucks for some coffee. Of course, the drive thru is filled to the end of the parking lot with people who's situations are similar to mine, so my only option is to go inside. Even Starbucks makes me think of Sarah. The popular franchise logo brings me back to the times when I get up early to go to work so I could order two cups of coffee (one for myself and one for Sarah) just to be able to bring her a cup of her favorite coffee before she started her day. It seems like I can't get through anything without thinking of Sarah and it annoys me. _Everything _somehow relates back to her.

I walk inside the coffee shop and as soon as I get in line I get a phone call from the office.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Charles! Kevin L. quit! Our loan payments are due-"

I am about to calm Lynn down and tell her that it not that hard to find a new CFO, but I am interrupted.

The person in front of me seems to not understand that I am on the phone and interrupts with a weak, "Hey sorry, I need like a ten cents more or else I'd have to pay with my company card, and I really don't want to have to do that so could you loan me a dime?" as she looks through her purse.

I look up and I am stunned that I didn't know it was her when I first got in line, but I quickly answer, "Yeah sure," as I dig through my pocket for some spare change.

It is only when I hold out my hand with the dime in it that Sarah looks up at me.

"Chuck."

I catch my breath after looking into her blue eyes, and then hold it again as I nod once. For some reason, I think it is a good idea to act like I'm still very angry with her. I still am, but not as much as I let on to her.

She takes the dime from my hand, and says a polite thank you before she turns around to pay for her coffee and go. In a split second, she is gone.

After she leaves, I have to be reminded by the worker at the counter that she is ready to take my order. She laughs about this and slyly flirts with me throughout my purchase. It's no surprise than when I receive my coffee, there is a number written on the side.

_Marissa – 588 1121_

This is the third time and with the third girl this has happened at this Starbucks. Maybe I should go to a different one?

As I walk outside the store, I head towards my car only to see a blonde stream of long wavy hair in front of it. She looks so beautiful, but even her beauty doesn't overcome my anger as I think of the recent events.

"Hi, Chuck," she greets me nervously.

"Hello."

"Um, I was wondering if we could talk," she requests even more nervously.

I choose my words carefully, "I have to get to work, one of my employees just quit."

"I understand. But could we talk later though? It's important," she asks again before realizing her repetition in words. When she does, she looks down and starts playing with her fingernails.

"It's important," I state, further emphasizing the repetition.

"Yeah," she whispers as she looks down.

I wait for a few moments before saying once again, "I have to get to work." I then leave to walk to my car without giving her an answer, but she doesn't stop me. And as I pass the store on the road, I see her still standing in my parking space.


End file.
